


Need a Moment

by Sarcxstic_Stilinski



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Drunkenness, Gen, venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcxstic_Stilinski/pseuds/Sarcxstic_Stilinski
Summary: John gets a bit sad, a bit drunk, and ends up taking the reader home for the night after venting to them. (nothing more than kissing)





	Need a Moment

John Shelby was a mystery altoge th er. Of course, everyone knew of him; it would be dumb to think anything other than that as he  _ was  _ a Peaky Blinder, after all. However, nobody knew him. How could you. Even with the family’s very public lives, on both the legal and illegal sides of life, they were very private. 

Their roles were very simple in the people’s minds. Tommy Shelby, though not the oldest, was the leader of the Shelby brothers. Nobody could argue against Tommy. He got what he wanted, no matter the cost. Arthur Shelby was the oldest and arguably the funniest of the group, though he had a temper like no other. He was a killer, but he was probably one of the sweetest out of the siblings. Finn Shelby was the youngest, but people knew not to mess with him. No matter how much you could see his family making fun of him, if anyone else said anything mildly rude, they would find themselves in boiling water. Quite a few had gone missing only for rumors to come out that they had said something to Finn Shelby. Polly and Ada were the least known about out of the family. As the women, everyone knew they also weren’t to be messed with, but they also knew that it wouldn’t be the boys to attack if something went wrong. Polly and Ada may have  been seen as feminine figures, but they fought harder than any boy the town had seen. 

That left John Shelby. People thought they knew John the most out of the family, but they were wrong. John was someone who held himself in a way that made him seem consistently relaxed, happy even. But if someone paid even the slightest bit more attention, they would notice that it was a façade. Hell, at least his family hid it a bit better than him. He just seemed  _ tired _ . 

The poor boy had been through a lot in his short life, and I pitied him just a bit. His wife had died a short while back while he was still in the war , and he seemed to be coming to the bar more and more. As I worked behind the counter, I watched him. Normally, he would go to a back room with his family, or he would at least sit far off into a corner, but tonight, he was in front of the counter. His head was pressed against the cool countertop as he mumbled quietly to himself. His façade was slipping. 

The pub had begun clearing out about an hour ago, and now all that was left were a few bums that didn’t have a home to go to and the drunkards that couldn’t walk by themselves. John hadn’t seemed to notice, and if he had, he didn’t care. 

I pitied him, really. I couldn’t imagine living the life he did. The war would have been enough to make me go mental if the stories I heard were right, but the life of a gangster. The constant thought of someone coming after you  looming over your shoulder constantly. Being ordered around by your family to do whatever they wanted. The pure idea of never having full control of your life. Well, it was enough to drive someone insane. 

Harry placed his hand on my shoulder as he walked by, whispering that I needed to wipe off the counters and he would get the others out. I nodded and took a cleaning rag from under the counter, soaking it in soap and water before running it across the surface, trying to keep a decent distance away from John’s head. 

He still hadn’t come around, even as Harry ended up having to literally throw out one of the homeless men. Instead, John kept mumbling to himself. I could faintly hear something about his children, and for the first time in about an hour, he tapped his glass on the counter, signaling he wanted another drink. 

I looked up at Harry who nodded to me as he began stacking chairs on the table. Even with the confirmation to give John a drink, I didn’t want to. He had dr u nken more than three-fourths of a bottle of whiskey. He probably couldn’t even lift his head to drink it. 

John tapped his glass again, and I took the glass from his hand, filling it with water instead. I could deal with his anger if he lashed out for it. 

“You  doin ’ okay there, John,” Harry questioned, stacking another chair. 

I placed the glass in John’s open hand as he responded. “I’m just fine, Harry,” he mumbled, lifting his head and knocking back the shot. I watched as he waited for the burn to hit, but when it never did, he gave me a confused look. “ Oi, w hat was that,” he questioned, not anger but  ra th er confusion filling his voice. 

“Water,” I responded, placing a full glass of it in front of him. “You need to drink some, John.” This was a bold action considering I had never  even  talked to the boy before  with the exception of taking his order.

John stared at the glass for a second before sighing and bringing it to his lips. “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled.  He took a few gulps, downing half the glass in a few seconds before wiping his mouth against the sleeve of his suit. I shook my head and handed him a few napkins before continuing to clean the counter.

Harry came up behind me again, this time moving to the register where I watched him count the bills quickly. He had done it so many times, it was practically second nature to him. He knew how much the pub needed to run and give change. The rest would be going into a bank account. He used to place it in a vault hidden in the floorboards, but everything in it had been stolen a few too many times, so he switched. 

“Can you close up for me tonight, y/n,” Harry questioned loudly before leaning down to whisper in my ear. “I don’t really want to leave you with John, but he seems quiet today, and I got a date at a restaurant a bit away.  Remember Mrs. Shelly? It’s her.”

“I got this,” I responded, patting his shoulder. “I’ll make sure everything's locked up, and I won’t be here much longer. Make sure to have fun.”

Harry chuckled a bit. “I’ll be having a bit more than fun.”

I rolled my eyes and shoved him playfully. He left with a little pep in his step and a hum in his voice. Then, my attention was diverted to John. I had to get him out somehow, but I wasn’t even sure he could walk. 

I took the now empty glass from in front of him and watched as his glazed over eyes stared at the wall across from him. What could he possibly be thinking about? 

“John,” I began, fishing the keys from under the counter. “What’s wrong? You don’t really have to tell me, but I don’t like seeing people so down.” 

John blinked a few times before looking at me, and I realized he wasn’t staring absentmindedly, he was crying. I paused, not knowing what to do as he wiped his hand across his face, obviously trying to hide it. 

“Oh, god, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!” 

John shook his head, laughing a bit. I suppose that was a good sign. “No, I just-” He swallowed harshly before he let out a loud sob. “ Gimme a second.” 

I waited, as he had instructed me to do, but his crying didn’t seem to be slowing down. “Is there anything I can do?”

John shook his head. “I need a moment. I didn’t mean to do this, especially in front of a pretty girl like you.” 

I chuckled a bit. “I don’t think this is the best time to flirt, John.”

He laughed too. “This is the perfect time,” he joked, wiping his eyes again. His face was blotchy from his crying, but he still looked so cute. I never thought that I would see someone as beautiful as him, but here he was, crying in the pub I was closing.

“John,” I spoke as he settled down. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I mean, we’ve only known each other for a bit. But, well, whenever I have a good cry, I find it’s best to talk to someone to let it all out. I mean, normally it’s Harry I vent to because he’s one of the only people I know, but -”

John cut me off with another laugh, and he took off his cap, placing it on the counter. “I get it, I promise. Come sit over here, and maybe, I’ll rant a bit.” 

And he did rant for nearly an hour, and we both got drunk off the cheap kind of whiskey, and I got to know John Shelby more than I ever thought I would. He was stressed, so stressed, and he felt underappreciated. He wanted somebody to listen for once, and he was scared he wouldn’t be a good father. He feared a lot of things. For someone who seemed so happy all the time, he had a lot of built up emotion.

By the end of the night, we were both holding onto each other for dear life as we made our way down the cobbled street. I had successfully locked up everything that needed to be, and John had suggested taking me home. I had responded that he couldn’t walk  _ himself  _ home with how much alcohol he had in his system. He mumbled something about his kids, and we had both agreed to stay at his house for the night. He didn’t want to leave me alone, but he couldn’t make it five feet without me holding him steady. 

The walk seemed to take barely any time at all, but that might have been because we were laughing the whole time. At one point, we had both ended up on the grimy, cobblestone path after he had jokingly pushed me away after I made a dirty joke. I fell over onto the ground, pulling him down with me without thinking about it. 

By the time we made it back to his house, I could see the sun rising, and I was dead tired. His house was nice, a bit dirty with all the kids running around, but it was something I could see myself living in. 

“This is a nice home,” I said, running my hand along the couch. I could see toys stuffed haphazardly under the coffee table. 

John grinned from where he was leaned against the door. “I’m glad you think so.” 

I stumbled a bit as I walked back towards him. “I’ll sleep on the couch, if that’s okay.” 

John shook his head. “You can take my bed. I couldn’t let you sleep there. It’s fuckin’ shit, it is. Slept on it once and my back was fucked for weeks.” 

“Well, then, why would I let you sleep there? I don’t want your back to be hurt!” I giggled and leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “That wouldn’t be very good, would it?” My breath fanned across his neck, and John shivered. 

“Well, I think I have the best idea yet. We can  _ both _ sleep in the bed.” John leaned back again before leaning forward and kissing me. I reciprocated quickly, but it was a languid kind of kiss that had me melting into him. I’ve never kissed someone let alone gone home with someone this soon into knowing them, but John was different. I felt like I could trust him. 

I pressed my forehead to his shoulder again and sighed. I was tired. Working in the bar took a lot out of me and getting drunk certainly didn’t help. 

John seemed tired too, and we both stumbled around the apartment before falling into his bedroom and directly onto his bed. I barely had the sense of mind to take off my shoes before promptly falling asleep. 

I couldn’t deny that waking up the next day beside a half-naked John Shelby was the best morning I had in a while, even when two of his daughters came running in, yelling about the night they had at Polly’s. The happiness only intensified when John woke up and turned, pressing his lips to my cheek and asking me if I’d like to have lunch with him. Sober. 


End file.
